


So I arrived, naked and cold

by mahkent



Series: Life's so reckless, tragedy endless, welcome to the family [4]
Category: Everyman HYBRID
Genre: Gen, Iteration Theory, past animalization, past dehumanization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-06 19:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15892791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahkent/pseuds/mahkent
Summary: Vinny wakes to a foreign body and a foreign world.





	1. Chop Suey!

Adult hands on his chest and on his body and the darkest rage he’s ever felt, but it isn’t his. Grabbing the adult hands with his pudgy little fists and snapping the wrist far too easily, the rage isn’t _his_ , he’s cast from his own body and he sees himself so distantly lunging and ripping flesh asunder far too easily. He sees his hands grabbing intestines and ripping them free and the adult isn’t wearing any clothes, but he sees the white collar of a holy man, why is the man naked?

It’s all so confusing. It isn’t his memory, he knows. Even when he sees pudgy hands holding a foam ship and pretending that he - whoever he sees through now - isn’t covered in the blood of the man who tried to most likely molest him. The memories aren’t _his_ , they aren’t. Playing with the puppy and his friends, young children that remind him so much of Evan and Jeff and Steph, they aren’t his memories.

He wakes comfortably, though. In a comfortable bed under a soft thick blanket, the ceiling above him painted with stars and constellations. A picture taped to the wall beside him that depicts a childish drawing of four children and an adult, but he doesn’t remember drawing it. Everything is foreign. When he sits up, he’s in a body not his own. Young. Small and soft, chubby hands and soft frame, so much like his own but so much different. When he pulls up his shirt he’s greeted with an utter lack of that long scar he got so used to. A new body. A _child’s body_. He’s greeted next by a small boy lying at the foot of the bed; so little, looking like he’s perhaps seven.

But his mind is telling him that it’s his friend. Two sets of memories jumbling, two times, but it’s still Evan either way. When Evan notices he’s awake, he blinks; animal eyes. Animal fear in his eyes, he’s curled like the dog Vinny’s so familiar with, and Vinny’s sure that the same situation is happening with him. Surely this is _real_ , Vinny can’t pretend it’s fake when he’s experienced so many impossible things in the past years.

“Evan? Um- dog?” He tries, unsure of how to address what he’s experiencing. If this Evan is the little boy of Fairmount. This _must_ be Fairmount, after all; the confusing memories of a boy who is not him and the priest. Vinny’s read the Corenthal reports. He knows what he went through, he knows some of what Evan must be seeing.

“Master?” Evan replies, confirming his fears. A shake of his head, he seems confused and lost, eyes distant and wild. When he speaks it’s jumbled. “You- you’re, adult Vinny? Mine?” Evan looks so small. Fragile and bony, his hair is shaggy and reaches his shoulders, his eyes are wide and his cheeks are soft. A young boy long before Evan shaped himself into what he wanted, the way the animal shows through his so breakable body. 

“Yeah, Ev. Adult. This is- I think this is Fairmount, right? That children’s home?” The voice that comes out of his mouth is so weak and so much higher than he’s used to. Not as high as Evan’s, but not Vinny’s usual low soft tone either. Evan doesn’t speak. Whatever’s in his head, he grunts and grinds his palm into his forehead, but doesn’t say a word. When Vinny opens his arms a little Evan immediately scurries into them- looking for comfort, probably.

Vinny’s fine with giving it. He’s confused and lost, unsure of what to think of the presence of the dormant child in his mind. That _must_ be what the thickness of his thoughts, reduced to the pace of syrup, is. The discomforting slowness lets up only when Evan curls into his lap; both parts of him enjoy physical contact like this, both parts of him enjoy when Evan buries his tiny face into Vinny’s neck. The thin arms around his shoulders, Evan fits so well despite Vinny noticing just how small he is over and over again.

“Evan, man. We’re- this is totally new. That doctor-” That doctor, Corenthal who now insists that they call him father. Why? Vinny knows his father left him (which Vinny?) after the Reverend died. Why does he remember this? It isn't his memory. The child in his mind (is he part of Vinny’s mind, or someone else?) stirs, but Vinny’s stronger. His mind is stronger, it must be. “Um, the doctor. We’re...” Just like Evan, he can't piece together a coherent sentence. Too much in his head now that the child is trying to take control.

The child almost has control when the door opens. A man- _the doctor,_ he knows, somehow- stands in the doorway. “Vincent, Evan, I thought I told you to sleep in your own beds-” The man begins. He’s somewhat heavy set, a light beard on his face and dark hair speckled with grey. It’s when Evan turns his head and snarls that he stops, confused. “Evan? Did you get lost again?” Said like either of them should know what he means. In Vinny’s arm Evan’s snarl grows louder and louder.

Vinny puts a hand on Evan’s shoulder, pulling him back a little. When Evan feels Vinny’s far too soft hand he calms just enough for Vinny to say, “Ev,” Quietly, but he speaks louder towards the man. “Corenthal?” It feels wrong to address the doctor that way. A man in a boy’s body, the boy knows the doctor as someone to respect and love, but the man doesn't. Vinny’s suspicious and frightened and hating the way that Evan’s fragile body is shivering against him. 

The doctor is silent for a moment or two. Considering, evaluating and reevaluating the situation. Seeing how Evan buries his face into Vinny’s neck again as the wildness in his eyes fades to where Vinny’s comfortable putting his hand in Evan’s hair. Seeing how Evan goes silent with the touching, tilting his head into Vinny’s neck as Vinny keeps staring at the doctor. 

Deep down Vinny knows that he should be playing child. He should pretend to be the little boy, but he doesn't want to lose himself. The little boy in his mind isn't in control anymore; the disgust he feels at forcing someone into the background, effectively possessing their body and destroying their will, doesn't matter much to him. He's seen far too much to consider this anything but HABIT’s attempt at breaking them. 

The doctor eventually speaks again. He sits on a chair that Vinny frankly hadn't noticed, and he clasps his hand together in that concerned way. “Vincent, what do you remember?” He asks, even though Vinny’s sure he would write the truth off as the both of them being deluded.

It isn't a delusion. He remembers every second of his life. A childhood with Nickelodeon and Game Boys and his two best friends, an attempt at making a funny workout series gone so _wrong_. Evan’s growing mental instability then Jeff’s death then HABIT, HABIT, HABIT. The way Vinny was trapped and forced to play cameraman until HABIT bored of that and made Evan the dog. His dog so devoted, but he knew his friend was locked in that head; Evan coming back but forever altered. Both of them too used to leashes and blunt fingers and dog teeth, both of them struggling in the real world until HABIT forced them back and used them both. Raped them both, but mostly Evan, and then it brought Jeff back just to steal him away. All of the memories so _much_ in his head.

The doctor would label him deluded if he insisted that he was a grown ass man. He'd spent twenty eight fucking years on this earth, even if it was in the future, and he isn't some child for Corenthal to coddle. Vinny decides to just not reply, on some principle of stubbornness. In his arms Evan shifts a little and holds him tighter. “Vincent, please. I can't help you if you won't let me.” The doctor says. It's a bullshit statement, frankly; Vinny doesn't believe that the doctor wants to help. Instead, he lets the silence reign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> father into your hands, i commend my spirit, father into your hands, why have you forsaken me, in your eyes forsaken me, in your thoughts forsaken me, in your heart forsaken me, oh- [System of a Down]  
>  
> 
> time to play with the Fairmount kids! but not really. didn't expect this fic to go so off the rails but hey, iteration theory is basically canon. tagged the Vinny/Evan because it's basically constant now that they're very close.
> 
> not sure if it counts as vinny/jeff/evan. im not really interested in that outside of a platonic perspective; i think vinny/evan is possible romantically because they're close and then they're all they have left. they're alone and scared and go to one another and it works considering the attraction beforehand ("Evan, if there was a girl version of you, I would date you.")
> 
> also, didn't know how to tag the body jumping past thing!


	2. Little Lion Man

He wakes before Vinny does. Surely the boy he was lying against is Vinny, he looks just like Vinny years ago. Soft cheeked and soft boned, a gentle presence that Evan pulls himself away from. Curling at the foot of the bed makes his tiny, fragile body feel so much more normal. The animal pose relaxes the dog in his mind that doesn’t know how to reconcile itself with the young boy in there, too. Three minds in one body too tiny and too breakable, he doesn’t know what to do. He just stays still at the end of the bed until Vinny wakes just as confused as he. The stare they share rules the room for a few moments before Vinny says in such a young voice, “Evan? Um- dog?”

Being called dog doesn’t make him angry anymore. He just nods, “Master?” slipping out of his mouth before he thinks. It’s too difficult to _think_ with so much in his head, the child (the child, Evan, he goes by HABIT because he doesn’t know who he is) listless and the dog terrified. Confusion upon confusion upon confusion, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. No control over himself because there’s too many himselves. “You- you’re, adult Vinny? Mine?”

His. The child is easy to ignore in his mind, but its presence can’t be disregarded. Every thought goes past another full person; every thought goes past the dog, frightened and lost. It takes so _long_ to think that Evan’s tempted to just not anymore. Even a palm grinded into his forehead doesn't help him focus, but when Vinny opens his arms he crawls in anyway. The good is familiar but not familiar at the same time, a juxtaposition that has all three beings in his head uncomfortable. Vinny’s new body is similar enough that Evan doesn't mind it, but it's his own body that feels wrong. Small and weak and too fragile when Vinny rubs his back.

He lets himself go. The dog takes over, the child lax and exhausted. It's so used to being controlled that it doesn't bother fighting. Evan shares the back of his mind with it; their consciousnesses fade with the feeling of Vinny’s hand against his thin ribs and his nose pressed into Vinny’s neck.

Attempting to find out what the child thinks is difficult. A blur of rage and glass and kaleidoscope eyes, he doesn't know anything and he doesn't understand why everyone is scared of him. Everything isn’t as clear as it should be. Blood and red and red and red, flesh in his mouth and over his tongue and he’s never really had control, has he? His mother dying by his hands, but they aren’t his hands. 

It's a lot. He remains quiet beyond a snarl as a stranger enters; a glance back tells him its the doctor, but the child won't tell him anything more except that it doesn't trust him. He decides to simply remain still as possible while Vinny and the doctor talk for what feels like hours. He only stirs when someone else enters, someone new and fresh and not the doctor that reeks of the stick in the mud.

“Jeff,” Vinny whispers. Evan turns to find- well, it's a younger Jeff, as he expected. Curly hair hanging almost to his shoulders, big doe eyes, clothes that hang loosely over his thin body. He skitters away from the doctor’s (Corenthal, maybe?) grasp and towards them.

“Dear god please tell me you guys are adults.” Jeff begins. His speech is hurried like he's forcing it out and he's quiet, so quiet that Vinny has to lean in. (Evan doesn't. He's pleased to know that his animal senses have spilled into this life, too.) “HABIT- he told me that I was going back? Referenced Samurai Jack...” As he speaks Jeff climbs up onto the bed, eyes on them as Evan crawls out of Vinny’s lap hesitantly and settles on the bed.

“It's a place called Fairmount. I think. This is- a children's home, or we’re probably at the point where Corenthal adopted us or something. Ugh-” Vinny shakes his head to clear his thoughts. “A children’s home in the 70’s. Shady stuff with the monsters and shit.” He reaches an arm out to pull Evan closer; his other arm is opened to Jeff, who shifts closer.

The hug is comfortable and intimate despite how all of them don't know the bodies they're in. Their bodies from the past, foreign and small and so breakable, they still look at one another and see the adults in their eyes. It's quiet for a moment or two as they regard each other- Evan glances at the doctor, who's sitting in a chair near the door and watching too closely- until Jeff speaks just as quietly as before. “What do we do? There's- the, the kid I guess is in my _head_.”

“We could play along-” Vinny starts, cut off by Evan growling and shaking his head. The growl sounds so _wrong_. His voice sounds so wrong, so high and young and high and high and _high_. A little boy's voice. Evan is so used to his real voice, low and deep enough that he doesn't fear speaking, but right now it's horrible.

“No. Playing kid'll just fuck our heads up.” Actual words past his lips makes his skin crawl. It sounds wrong, bad, but he has to focus on Vinny and Jeff right now even if their voices are high too and it's so weird, seeing them in such young bodies. Looking like they did when they were in elementary school together.

“Yeah... but the doctor expects the kids, doesn't he?” Vinny murmurs. They're being quiet, watching the doctor out of the corner of their eyes. Paranoid- Evan knows he doesn't trust the guy, and it seems like neither Vinny nor Jeff do either. He's far too shady and far too foreign to them.

“Fuck the doctor.” Evan spits loud enough to be fully audible. He raises his eyes to stare at the doctor himself, Corenthal, properly. The stand off then is tense, a silent child-not-child and a doctor who just doesn't understand; it's broken only by Corenthal himself standing and leaving, more confused than before.

None of them say anything. Evan just settles himself between Jeff and Vinny, so small that he doesn’t think he should go anywhere else. Vinny hugs Jeff, hugs Evan; so tight that neither of them could wriggle out, not that they want to. Evan’s just fine with his back against Jeff’s thin chest and his own chest against Vinny’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weep for yourself my man, you'll never be what is in your heart; weep little lion man, you're not as brave as you were at the start [Mumford and Sons]
> 
>  
> 
> did jeff learn about the Fairmount shit? i dunno! i’m saying he didn't. 
> 
> anyway, Evan was absolutely a runt of a child. Vinny was average sized and Jeff was lanky. some things never change.


	3. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for eating disorders and health issues thereof.

Now that Evan has a full set of teeth again, he isn’t sure how to use them.

He knows the child didn’t use them enough. The state of what is now his body, small and weakened and malnourished, tells him more than the child in his head ever would. Probing the memories he shouldn’t have, he knows his parents didn’t feed him. Scared of him. They ignored him and kept him hungry and tired constantly, just to have HABIT tear him and them apart.

But that wasn’t his life. His life was dog teeth and not enough left to chew, and now he’s too used to that to fully realize that his human teeth are all there except for the few baby teeth that he pulled, when they got loose. (But it wasn’t him either, the child had not-Vinny help him pull them, and it hurt when the roots ripped, but he laughed through the blood even as Vinny fussed over him.)

Corenthal - James, maybe, but Evan isn't calling the man anything other than curses - insists that they eat as a family, even though they don't know him. Vinny and Jeff and Evan, they don't know him. Steph isn't even with them right now; Evan heard Corenthal mention to someone on the phone (one of the weird curly corded ones with the moving dial and the cradle) that she was out with Maryann, whoever Maryann is.

The dinners are always quiet. Evan struggles, because he doesn't _remember_ how to eat with human teeth, while Corenthal attempts conversation. Any topic is ignored or unanswered, any attempt falls so, so flat. Corenthal watches them all, Evan knows; Jeff eats normally, but Vinny doesn't trust the food, and Evan just can't get used to it. Corenthal watches as he bites with his front teeth and forgets about his foreign back teeth. Awkward movements and he quickly gets sick of it, so he's started just not eating.

Now, he knows Corenthal hates that. Corenthal keeps pressing granola bars - homemade, maybe, they don't smell like plastic packaging - into Evan's stupid tiny hands, keeps nagging and nagging until Evan snaps his stupid flat teeth at him. It never gets him far- he still has to gnaw at the stupid bar or whatever food Corenthal presses into his hands. He has to _pretend_ even though he doesn't care enough to keep the weak body running. 

Really, he only eats when Vinny asks him to. He has to coax him into it because the teeth in his jaw just feel so _wrong_ and the sensation of too many teeth slicing through anything makes his teeth vibrate and he hates it, he hates it so much that he just avoids it unless Vinny’s next to him watching. His body isn’t right and neither is his scent, but Evan knows full well that it’s him.

It’s difficult to eat. It’s so _annoying_ , having to maintain a body. When HABIT was in control for months on end it would keep his body running until it physically couldn’t, then it would dump the body - dump him - into a cheap motel and use something else, until Evan had woken from the days on end of sleep, his head empty and foggy. A few times it was _gracious_ enough to let him eat at a shitty diner, but usually it just took him over directly after he dragged himself out of the threadbare bed.

But that’s the past-future-unknown. In the now, Corenthal takes him by the shoulder one day while they're all three sitting in the main room (because they haven't played like kids in so long, it feels foreign and wrong) and presses large fingers into the thin bone hiding under his skin so that Evan can't escape. Corenthal takes him into another room- perhaps his, it smells like old man and old woman and paper and ink, stress, sweat, so _much_ -

“Evan, please sit.” Corenthal’s rough voice drags his attention away from the many scents. Evan shakes his head when he sees that the man is pointing at the bed- instead, he takes a seat in the rocking chair (an actual _rocking chair_ , how old are these people?) in the corner. Corenthal himself sits on the bed, soft eyes focused only on Evan. Probably on the way his collar bones stick out, the skin thin over them, probably on the way his cheeks are sunken and he keeps licking his lips in his nervous dog way. “Evan, why aren't you eating? I've been trying to get you to, we both know, but... I know you weren't fed enough by your parents,” and parents is said like a bad word, “but you need to eat. You're a growing boy.”

“Fuck you.” Evan spits, the only full phrase he's really said to Corenthal since they met. The defiant look in his eyes - still bright blue, so bright now that HABIT hasn’t run his body raw and broken - doesn’t do much to ward Corenthal off; instead, it just makes the man look sadder.

“Evan, _language_. Please stop fighting me on this- we don't want a repeat of last time.” He says, but Evan doesn't ask for any explanation of what _last time_ means. He just stares at Corenthal for a few moments, stare harsh and as unnerving as he can make it in this shitty body, and stands to leave.

* * *

He doesn't really take Corenthal’s words into consideration for the next week or so. Despite how he feels the bone under his skin more and more every day, it's not something he cares about. The body isn't his; even if it is now, it won't die. HABIT won't ever let him die.

Even before, HABIT wouldn’t let him die. He’d wake after months and months of darkness and contextless images of death, and he’d be starving. Malnourished to the point where he doesn’t know how he’s alive. He’d eat just enough to keep himself alive- if HABIT let him go, he wanted to be able to go back to Vinny- and then pop whatever pills he found in the house until the blackness of unconsciousness took him and he couldn’t think about what his hands did.

Now, it bites him in the ass, naturally. Every single bite of food he didn't take because it made his skin crawl to put the food between his teeth, it comes back with a _vengeance_ when he's outside with Jeff and Vinny. The stick in his hand is crooked but solid, and when he smacks it against the one Vinny’s swinging at him Vinny’s snaps. They laugh- adults playing a child’s game, they never truly grew out of stuff like this.

Evan’s been feeling off for a while, but it doesn't matter to him when he's having simple fun with his friends. Jeff is off to the side, drawing or something; Vinny is in front of him, beaming with his young face. Evan can feel the sweat drying over his cold, cold skin, he can feel his mind fogging over for no apparent reason but he doesn't question it.

Really, he doesn't think about it until he takes a step towards Vinny and his vision blurs. Two Vinny’s, reaching out for him, exhaustion wracking his body and suddenly he finds himself on the ground. His nose is in the dirt, it feels like his legs are sprawled but he can't really feel much at all right now except the buzzing in his head and limbs. The way they're shaking faintly, the way his body is shuddering without him really wanting it to. It's all very confusing, terrifying if Evan could think of anything but how he's breathing through dirt. 

“Evan-?!” Vinny calls so distantly, and he feels soft hands on his shoulder, then larger hands knocking it away. When he's turned over he sees an adult- the doctor, Corenthal (Doctor, the child in his brain pipes up weakly) looking down at him. His lips move around words, but there's no sound that come out until he calls- well, he calls something, probably to Jeff who Evan can barely see running off.

It's all confusing, really. His head is filled with cotton and even the scents of the world are whittled down to nothing, nothing, nothing; Corenthal’s broad hand presses into his tiny back and pushes him up, Corenthal presses something to his lips after a moment or two of Evan struggling with the way his head reels at the movement. Whatever it is, he doesn't know, but he doesn't trust Corenthal- that much he remembers. Even if remembering is kind of hard right now, he grunts and shakes his head- but another hand touches his shoulder. A smaller hand takes whatever's in front of him (blurred, it looks kind of like a glass,the light reflecting off of the curved surface) and tilts it towards him.

The smaller hand is must be Vinny’s. The smell of flowers and wood, it's different now that they're in this time but it's _Vinny_ so he opens his mouth and- it's juice, evidently, sweet and cold on his oh so human (oh so _wrong_ ) tongue. With Vinny’s hand on his shoulder, he willingly drinks it even though Corenthal’s hand is pressing into his spine and he wants nothing more than to squirm away from it.

* * *

Vinny watches Evan hit the ground. A confused look on his face, the tiny boy (tiny man, anyway) falls face first and Corenthal runs over before Vinny can so much as move. Corenthal sits him up even as Vinny runs over, looking over Evan; he looks broken. Small, his body is crumpled and he's shaking against Corenthal's hand. Corenthal calls for Jeff to get something, juice, but Vinny can only focus on Evan shuddering and how his eyes are open but unseeing.

Vinny figured this would happen. Evan hasn't eaten anything substantial in a while. Vinny sees how his face scrunches when he chews, how he tries so hard to eat like he used to - ripping with his front teeth and swallowing too large chunks - but can't manage it with the new body. Evan just kept getting thinner and thinner, hiding it with the large shirts he has and refusing to eat. Not refusing, necessarily- he'd attempt, taking at most a few bites, but the sensations would make him shake his head and pass whatever Vinny or Jeff pressed into his hands back. 

Evan’s sick. He’s been sick for a while, Vinny knows; Vinny knows Evan’s had trouble with food for a few years, even before the human teeth that aren't normal to either of them. _WAKE UP_ , Vinny heard the admission that HABIT ate their baby. Evan’s baby, who didn't even have a name yet she was so young, meat and bone between Evan’s teeth; it's only natural that Evan would struggle with eating. And then Vinny’s poor dog could only eat kibble, then only the mash, and now... 

Now Evan’s gone and starved himself. He's sitting up, supported only by Corenthal’s hand, and he’s barely lucid enough to refuse the juice. Probably afraid of what Corenthal might have done to it. Vinny moves forward timidly, deciding on a sudden whim to touch Evan's shoulder with his own too small hand, and take the cup from Corenthal. Evan only drinks once he's looking up at Vinny with wide, blank eyes. The poor guy is confused and frightened, Vinny can tell from how his breathing is quick and short, his eyes trailing off to the side. 

“Ev, hey- look at me.” He says. Corenthal is so obvious in his mind, a presence behind Evan that’s keeping him from being truly open. “Evan.” More forcefully, and those hazed eyes finally look at Vinny. Vinny can’t stop himself from murmuring _good boy_ ; it earns him a smile from Evan and a frown from Corenthal, but all he cares about is that Evan’s marginally lucid.

“Okay, good.” He says, and he presses the glass to Evan’s lips once again. Trying to fix years of abuse and physical neglect won’t be fixed with just this gesture but Vinny enjoys seeing Evan finally, _finally_ accepting someone trying to care for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy hands make my skin blue, smile don't let the neighbours see, we’re the perfect family [Skindred]
> 
> evan has issues with eating;  
> 1) HABIT ate his goddamn baby with his goddamn mouth  
> 2) he didn't have control of his body for so long that he forgot to eat, so now he isn't fully cognizant of needing to eat  
> 3) sensory issues involving chewing (he isn't used to having so many human teeth anymore) 
> 
> also, he's got hypoglycemia - low blood sugar - in this chapter. in kids it can cause shakiness, unconsciousness, cold sweat, confusion, blurred/double vision. gnawing hunger also but evan probably isn't used to what that feels like anymore. 
> 
> another note: this will again focus mostly on vinny and evan. they're the two that interest me and [slaps ass] i'm gay.


	4. Corenthal Letter dated 1-13-1977

Perhaps two weeks ago my children changed. Vincent and Evan the most noticeably. Jeffrey has as well, but not enough to be of much concern compared to the others.

Vincent is terrified. He is paranoid and clingy and steadfastly refuses to let Evan out of his sight, to the point of where Evan is most often found in Vincent’s bed in the morning (sometimes they are curled under the covers, sometimes Evan is at the foot of the bed-?) and they are practically glued to one another’s side. I have brought Vincent into my room to speak with him about this, alone; he quickly became agitated and kept looking towards the door. 

I have compiled his statements below, with notes:

 _Yeah, um- Evan? He’s cool. I like him a lot- why did you want to talk to me alone, Corenthal?_ (he only refers to me as Corenthal. physically agitated and shifting often)  
(when asked about personality changes) _Maybe you just missed how we really are. You’re not perfect, Corenthal._  
(asked about reverend green) _Um, the Reverend- ugh. Fuck you._  
(asked about why he does not trust me) _Why should I trust you? You’re a doctor. A shady one- god, I hate this._ (at this point he stood to leave, shaking)

Further notes: he is far less religious now. Before he used to pray before meals and before bed, often throughout the day, but now he does not. He uses God’s name in vain, as a simple exclamation or way of emphasis. He doesn’t seem to remember most of the bible, when he used to be able to recite it. Also swears far more often than before.

Further discussions with him alone were fairly irrelevant but prolonging them led him to becoming agitated. Vincent began rambling aimlessly, crying. Would have comforted him but what he was saying was so fascinating. _Just let me go back, I don’t want to be here, I don’t know you but- my fuckin’ dog-_ (perhaps referring to the dog Reverend Green used to trick him?) _He needs me, Corenthal, stop fucking-_ (distracted until I asked him about the dog)

 _My dog? Um- my dog? He’s... my dog... he’s small, but not like, super small. Rowdy. He’s pretty and stuff, nice h- fur. I had to cut it myself a few times because he’s, because we didn’t have like a groomer or anything. He’s, um, he’s not- he’s smaller than me but pretty decent sized so he doesn’t know his own strength sometimes._  
(I ask what the dog’s name is) _Um... um. He’s nice though. I had, um, um-- we had to get some of his teeth pulled because, b- but it was okay, he dealt with it fine, then- then- oh, god. Then his nails got clipped like, removed, but it’s like... that’s like his knuckle, his,_ (Vincent points at his finger, halfway down the middle phalanx) _that’s... he was hurting for a while. Still kind of upset about that. I am- he just, he cried a lot and it hurt him a lot. But he was still, um, he was fine after a few days. He wasn’t scared- he was also so, so fuckin’- he’s, he’s so devoted. Like he doesn’t care if he gets hurt or whatever so long as I’m fine. He just- let me go back._ (I then ask what happened to the dog, and Vinny becomes more agitated) _He- he’s fine. He’s safe._ (but you’re separated from him, I say) _Yeah. Y- yeah, but he’s fine. He’ll always be fine._

I don’t recall Vincent telling me of any dog before Reverend Green’s, which was named Badger, and was not declawed nor did it have teeth pulled. It also was a puppy, and it seemed as if Vinny had this dog for some time so it would be an adult. Vincent did not care for this dog nor did he meet it often; what dog is he referring to? 

Evan is a different beast altogether. Emphasis on beast. He seems far more animal, for lack of a better term; growls and snarls and has attempted to bite me. Far less verbal. Only speaks to Vincent or Jeffrey, former more than latter. Refuses to speak to myself outside of “fuck you”. Curses far more often than even Vincent. Appears unfamiliar with his body; stumbles and has difficulties grasping items. New tendencies to hold things in his mouth (probably due to inability to grasp?)

He now is just as clingy to Vincent as Vincent is to him. Very physically inclined, whether it be pressing to Vincent’s side or allowing Vincent to run his fingers through Evan’s hair, or wrap it around his fingers (something Evan did not allow before). When they do not think I am looking I see Vincent outright petting Evan like an animal. Unknown why this sudden development occurred.

Evan has difficulties eating. Previously I know he was unfamiliar as his parents neglected to feed him most of the time; now it is significantly worse. Something so simple as biting and chewing he does not really know how to do. Bites with his front teeth and neglects to chew with molars; jerks head forward to push the food forward, often. I have found that at dinners he becomes frustrated with the process and will simply refuse to eat. Refuses to eat any snacks if _I_ offer, but if Vincent offers and watches him eat he will. Not enough. Evan is losing weight at an alarmingly quick rate but barring forcing food down his throat I am unable to make him eat properly. 

I have not been able to coax him into talking to me like I managed with Vincent. Any attempt ends with him insulting me or cursing at me. The only time he has been receptive to my attempts has been when I’ve asked about Vincent. Statement is compiled below with notes.

 _Vin? Vinny- yeah, he’s, mmmhe’s super cool._ (myself: you two are close, yes?) _Mn. Yeah. ‘Course, we’re uhh, friends. Friends._ (Evan is more prone to stuttering around me, evidently. I then asked why they share beds) _Why not? S’warm. Comfortable._ (Evan smiles and looks down, perhaps flustered?)

That is all he said about that. As said, I have not managed to get him to speak to me after that. For the most part both children - actually, all children, including Jeff who is not very much different - avoid me. Steph is currently out of town with Maryann so I am unsure if she has changed as well. I’ll observe them further.

\- Corenthal, 7.56pm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you fall asleep with a panic switch? [Silversun Pickups]
> 
> had NO clue how to format this. wow! anyway. i don’t trust corenthal. also focusing mostly on Vin and Ev since the previous stories mostly focused on them.


	5. Enter Sandman

Vinny doesn’t question it when he wakes to find Evan curled at the foot of his bed despite having his own. He'd expected the dog to come back, eventually; as a result of Evan's mental instability or HABIT’s meddling, he doesn't know, but he doesn't care. The dog at the end of his bed is fast asleep and partly sprawled out. Vinny only really knows that Evan is the dog because he isn't under the covers, he's curled up with his wrists crossed and his legs tucked under him. Every so often he shifts in his sleep. 

Jeff in the bed near him - because the three boys share a bedroom - wakes only a little bit after Vinny does. Both of them stare at the dog in silence. Vinny doesn't move for worry of waking him, but Jeff gets out and pads over. Vinny looks over to find that he's in the pajamas that Maryann, evidently Corenthal’s wife, made him; he looks uncomfortable. Vinny is too, the adults are far too familiar with them in the most disconnected way, unknowing of who they truly are and expecting the children they'd saved.

“Should we wake him? The dog- he doesn't... he doesn't know this place.” Jeff’s voice is slowly becoming less and less foreign. Vinny’s becoming so used to the differences again; the dog in the past so terrifyingly foreign but so familiar, now so _normal_ in Vinny’s head, and now the children. Jeff’s eyes are sad, when Vinny looks at them; focused on Evan, both of them frowning at the sleeping dog. Jeff is now by the bed. He gently nudges Evan, one slim hand against Evan’s shoulder, and Evan wakes. Slowly, the dog sits up and looks around; very quickly it - he, whatever - becomes confused and agitated.

Lost. The poor dog doesn’t know where it is, Vinny’s sure; he holds his arms out and murmurs _hey, Ev_. Evan doesn’t do anything for a few moments but snuffle and growl deep in his chest. Scared, the poor dog is so scared, but he shuffles forward and curls into Vinny’s arms in his odd dog way. Letting Vinny wrap his arms around him, resting his face on Vinny’s shoulder but not quite shifting to fit perfectly.

The simple dog with no way to understand where they are, he whines and doesn’t shift as Jeff sits next to them. He accepts Jeff joining the awkward hug. This close, Vinny can feel how both Evan and Jeff are shaking- maybe himself, too, he’s not sure. The dog between the two men (two boys, whatever) snuffles and curls up a bit better in their grasp. 

Jeff speaks after a long, stretching silence. “What do we do? If Corenthal finds out- he’s already suspicious of us. And the dog can’t fake it.” Vinny sees that he’s upset. Young, soft face pinched and his soft brown eyes looking at Vinny. Not the dog, never the dog for too long because his face always falls and he get so quiet.

Vinny considers, for a moment or two. They can’t exactly _run_ , because they’re stuck in a time not their own as children who could never survive on their own. The dog, too; the dog couldn’t survive on without Vinny or Jeff (mostly Vinny. They both know that he’s far better at caring for the dog.) Still, the poor mutt snuffles between them, upset without knowing why; the dog could never understand, and Jeff’s right; he could never pretend to be anything but the animal he is. “I don’t- I don’t know how to hide this.” _This_ is emphasized by him looking down at the dog shivering in his arms. “He doesn’t fuckin’ eat like a human- oh, god.” 

They’re silent for a few moments after that, at least until the dog perks up. He turns his head to look at the door; a snarl crawls out of his mouth until Vinny buries a hand in his hair. Whatever is behind the door, Evan hates it so much that he wriggles out of their grasp and takes up position at the end of the bed to guard them.

* * *

The dog doesn’t know where he is, but it really doesn’t matter when he knows Vinny and the other guy are with him. They’re both so small, their faces smooth and their hair clean-cut, but the dog can smell that they’re the same as the Vinny he knew and the guy he met. (He can’t remember the other guy’s name. Something tells him it should bother him.) 

Right now, though, he’s more concerned about what he can hear outside of the room. Shuffling of cloth-hard-something on the floors, soft breathing and the burble of bitter-hot liquid from the dark box Vinny likes. Even though Vinny and the guy’s breathing is loud in his ears, the pound of their hearts practically reverberating through his bones, he can only focus on the shuffle of the whatever (maybe shoes?) coming closer and closer to the door. A heavy scent of stale old man and worn clothing and dirt, ink, pens- he slides out of his master’s grasp to crouch at the end of the bed. The shuffle is closer, old man- the door opens-

The dog doesn’t recognize this new man. Tall and heavy set, the man reeks and is too large compared to the dog. (The dog isn’t familiar with his body anymore. Small and weak with too-long paws like the ones before Vinny clipped his claws, too dull teeth and too many and a thick tongue that he doesn’t know what to do with.) The man makes sounds and he moves closer but stops when the dog barks at him.

More sounds. The man edges closer, slowly closer, putting a hand out to touch him. This close he sees fine lines across the hands, ink smeared into the tiny grooves even this early; he smells the bitter stench of fear and worry, but he doesn't move. He doesn't move because behind him he hears Vinny whispering so quietly that the man assuredly cannot hear him _down, Ev_. 

The man moves his mouth, still. Noises that don't mean a goddamn thing to the dog. The man’s hand on his shoulder, though? That means that he has to calm down. It's what Vinny (master, master) always wants when he makes the gesture. The man isn't Vinny. The dog snaps his too dull teeth at the person in front of him and shifts back-

Only to find Vinny’s hands around his ribs, keeping him still. Vinny starts making those noises (talking) but he's looking over his shoulder at the strange man, not at the dog or the curly haired guy. 

The dog calms only when Vinny pets his fur. The dog calms only when the man backs to the door, not leaving but submitting to his rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hush little baby, don't say a word- and never mind that noise you heard; it's just the beast under your bed, in your closet in your HEAD! [Metallica]
> 
> got distracted by life and marble hornets, sort of. enter sandman slaps.


	6. Corenthal Letter dated 1-25-77

Evan has altered drastically.

I believe this is the dog Vincent was talking about. Evan acts just like one- devoted, aggressive towards myself because I suspect he does not recognize me. Relaxed only when Vincent told him to. 

Limited mobility (would not stand upright) and vocal ability. Barked and snarled only, no actual words; obeyed Vincent implicitly, and only Vincent. Like a guard dog. I don't know if this is a mental degradation or if it's some sort of mental breakdown, but it's highly concerning. He didn't seem _human_ at all. Even his eyes showed no intelligence. He moved as if he were used to being on all fours, so smoothly that I don't know if he hasn't before. 

I asked Vincent a series of questions after Evan tried to bite me. They're compiled below: 

(asked why Evan is acting this way) _Um, he doesn't trust you. He- my dog, he's always really protective, right? And he's- you're a stranger. You're a stranger to all of us but especially him._  
(why did you call him your dog?) _He's my dog, you fucking moron. It's not that hard to piece together._  
(isn't that demeaning to Evan?) _Yeah, but that doesn't change the truth. He's a dog right now. I can't exactly change that._  
(right now?) _How stupid are you? You saw him up and walking earlier, right?_  
(why are you so angry?) _You’ve pissed my dog off. He's probably scared too. And, like I said earlier, I don't trust you, doctor._  
(would you be comfortable bringing Evan to me for an examination? I need to make sure he's healthy) _Evan wouldn't want that. My dog hates- he hates examinations. You'll just hurt him or something._  
(why do you think I'll hurt him?) _Because people always hurt him._

At that point Vincent ceased responding. He was not only verbally aggressive but kept referring to Evan as his dog. He treated Evan as a dog, petting him and holding him back from me, eventually settling down with Evan’s head on his lap. Jeffrey even pet Evan a few times- they're both used to it, perhaps? 

I'm not sure what to do now. Vincent seemed to not think it was anything to be concerned about. He simply treated Evan as one would a dog, calling him good boy and such; perhaps I can do nothing? I'll try interacting with Evan after this, preferably in his dog state. See if he recognizes me or if he yields any interesting reactions. 

\- Corenthal, 7.01am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the VERY short chapter but i had to get this out of the way before anything else could happen! don't trust Corenthal!


	7. brompton cocktail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for HABIT and overdose.

The haze of HABIT takes over his mind, eventually. Despite the dog and despite the child and despite Evan himself crammed into the fragile skull, HABIT forces its way in and crushes the child and dog. It leaves Evan just barely cognizant enough to know what it's doing.

The middle of the night. Stars outside, pretty constellations like freckles in the night sky, HABIT regards them for only a moment before slipping out of the bed. Evan’s bare feet are silent on the floor; Evan's tiny hand turns the door handle, despite Corenthal having recently begun locking them in at night. Evan’s body slips into the bathroom and clambers up onto the counter, opens the cabinet, and pulls out the bottles. Endless little bottles of medicine for the kids they've taken over; Evan couldn't pronounce any of them if he tried, but HABIT uses his hands to pop the tops off of all of them. 

In his head he hears the demonic rumble of the thing possessing him. _Oh, puppy, Ev- this won't hurt too bad. Just going to sleep. Just having some fun! Maybe you'll get high, Ev._ It says to him, even as it forces handfuls of the pills down his throat without water. It chokes and gags but gets down so many that Evan feels full, despite not having eaten in days now, it swallows so many that he's sure his tiny body will die from it.

It's not like he fears death. Hell, HABIT has too much fun with his body to destroy it completely, and maybe it's right; maybe he’ll get high. Maybe he'll just drift off and wake up in a few days. Or maybe he'll suffer- so many ifs, so many maybes rush through his head before the pills start to take effect. (He doesn't know how time passes anymore, even when he's in control. It's either molasses clogging his senses or water slipping past him so fast he doesn't know how to react.) 

HABIT hops off the counter. It's clumsy, the body it's in shutting down already even as Evan struggles to think. His knees give- HABIT’s knees give- his arms can't support him, so they give too, and Evan feels cold tile against his cheek as HABIT hits the floor. It just laughing in his head, as it gives him enough control that his limbs start tingling instead of being so, so numb. 

The toilet. If he can get his fingers down his throat he might be fine, if the porcelain god accepts his offering he might not die so slowly alone. The tingling in his limbs is nothing compared to the sudden coldness of his skin, the way his stomach starts churning but retching doesn't get anything out. Slowly, so slowly, he pulls his failing body towards the toilet- blurred and glowing white with his weakened vision. Evan can feel his heart pounding and failing and his stomach hurts so _bad_. 

HABIT is watching, he knows. The presence in his head is overwhelming but it's just letting him struggle and crawl with muscles that are starting to burn and fail him. The blurriness takes over his vision finally; everything is shapeless colors, everything is the cold tile under his child body and the feeling of his finger _tips_ against the porcelain of the toilet.

The worst part is the confusion. Halfway through his fingers hitting the toilet, he almost forgets what he's doing- the thoughts as thin as air in his head, and even though he tries to hold onto them as much as possible so many escape. It doesn't help, either, that he's distracted by his lips buzzing and his chest tightening as he finds he can't breathe. Then the pain in his stomach- 

He's too weak. He feels his muscles give up, his fingers slide down the side of the toilet, his head falls and hits the floor. Everything is nothing, existence is little more than the cold seeping through his bones and the ache in his stomach.

* * *

Vinny wakes up to take a piss, early in the morning. When he peeks out of the window the sun is just barely above the horizon, staining the dark sky a honey gold where it touches; he doesn't look for too long, because he knows he should get back to bed before Corenthal knows he's awake. The door is unlocked when he slips into the hall- concerning, because Corenthal locks them in, but more concerning is the open bathroom door. He sees light spilling out of it, and he can't quite figure out who is in it until he walks in.

Evan. Evan, stretched out across the ground that's littered with dozens of empty pill bottles. Evan, unconscious and just barely breathing. Drool dripping down blue lips, the startings of vomit that didn’t make it staining his fingers - blue as well - an off color. It looks like he’s dead. The quiet rattling, hitching breaths he takes that halt for seconds on end makes him seem almost there. 

Vinny runs to his friend’s side. His best friend, despite Jeff being alive now even in the wrong body, he sometimes thinks Evan is his only friend left. _Jeff!_ he shouts, still, unsure of what Jeff could do- wasn't he studying to be a nurse?- but needing help anyway. The tiny, broken dog in front of him, Evan’s eyes aren't focusing. They're wide and bloodshot and terrified but fading fast.

Jeff pushes him out of the way, once he appears in the doorway. “Get Corenthal.” He says, voice tense and fingers hovering over Evan’s still form.

* * *

The hospital is cold. Antiseptic, walls painted a dull mint green, and it smells like cleaning products. On one side of Vinny is Jeff, sitting in the same chair as him because they’re so small. On the other side is Corenthal. 

Vinny feels nauseous. He can’t get the image of Evan sprawled on the floor dying out of his head. It’s different this time, somehow- he’s seen his poor dog injured before. Blood and guts and torn out teeth, he’s _seen_ it. He saw Evan splayed open on the ground, chest cavity emptier than he feels right now. He saw Evan dead and dying. This is different. Someone surely did it to him- HABIT surely took control and took all of those pills while Evan screamed in his own head. Now Evan is somewhere deep in the hospital. Now they wait.

A doctor walks in an hour into them waiting. He’s old, white, hunched over and mean-looking. “James Corenthal?” The man asks, because apparently the two children next to the man don't matter to him. 

Corenthal stands. The boys behind him he leaves, he walks over. The two adults are standing close and the doctor speaks low, but Vinny can hear.

“He's alive, barely. The amount of pills he took means that they overwhelmed his body fairly quickly. We’ve done what we can to stop any more from taking effect, but he has to work through the ones already in his system. I'm not sure if he can do that; he seems to be poorly nourished and sickly even before the overdose.” The doctor leans closer to Corenthal. Vinny can just barely hear him. “If he can't fight it, we can keep him comfortable, but little else. I’m sorry.” 

Vinny stops listening.

* * *

Evan looks so small in the bed. Some plastic ventilator is shoved down his throat to keep him breathing, forcing air into his chest and cycling it out; needles are shoved into his arms to try and drown the drugs in his system. 

Jeff sits in the chair beside the bed. Vinny’s in the chair, too, as it’s big enough for both of their child bodies to fit in it; Corenthal stands across from them. 

Jeff looks at Evan, focusing on all of the details of his friend’s new face. It’s pale, right now. His eyes are shut and his eyelids twitch when the ventilator in his throat cycles in and out. Looking so fragile, a porcelain statue fit to shatter if he’s touched, Jeff’s friend is close to death. He knows that. He studied to be a nurse- the only reason Evan didn’t die right there, really. He got Evan awake enough to keep breathing even when he started gagging on frothy vomit.

Jeff looks at Vinny, focusing on the way his soft face is frozen in a mask of worry. Brows pinched, lips pulled up, he won’t look away from Evan. His hand holds Jeff’s tightly- the doctor said they had to leave Evan alone, let him rest, so Vinny holds onto him instead. His tiny hand is soft in Jeff’s tiny hand, warm. 

Jeff saw Evan on the ground. Close to death, rasping breath in a ragged throat, Evan was slipping away when Jeff pushed him onto his side. Evan started choking as his body started shutting down. Putrid vomit crawling up as his body failed to fight it well, blue lips and fingers- oh, god. Jeff could only stare and run his fingers through Evan’s long hair, keeping him on his side. Jeff couldn’t do anything.

Right now all he can do is keep Vinny calm. The poor guy is wound up now that Evan - his dog, Jeff’s mind hisses - is dying slowly, a fire in his veins shredding his liver. Poor Vinny, he’s crying quietly and sniffling. Poor Vinny, he’s pressing into Jeff’s side and holding his hand like a lifeline.

Jeff knows that HABIT won’t let Evan die. HABIT only let him die because he wasn’t _important_ enough to the grand plot it had. HABIT told him, in that damned forest; he was told a lot of things. Evan was the perfect host- _like a compact car,_ HABIT said, _I can drive him and he won’t break- physically._ and it cackled then. _Small and stupid and strong and what’s better than that, Jeffers?_

HABIT told him Vinny was smart. Curious, stubborn, the exact thing it needed to fix _the problems_ it wouldn’t elucidate about. It spoke about how Vinny was so much fun because he never gave up even though Evan was ripped from him and given back a dog, even though Jeff died.

It didn’t say Jeff was needed. It called Jeff _extraneous weight,_ then _collateral damage- never needed._ Jeff thinks he’s needed now. Even if it’s for such a simple thing as holding Vinny’s soft hand in his own, he’s needed now. 

Right?

* * *

He's floating.

It's a shitty description, he thinks. It isn't so much that he's floating, it's just that his body is miles away from itself and he's somewhere in the blackness of reality just existing. Nothing complicated or scary or anything. It's just dust in the wind, he's just fog and blackness.

For a while, he stays like that. He thinks vaguely of Vinny a few times, but otherwise he's empty. It's peaceful, almost, until he thinks of what he is.

Who he is? What he is? He isn’t sure. Something in his head is howling _dog_ , and he’d almost agree except he can remember lips beneath his own and the burning fire of passion, love, emotions deeper than a dog could consider.

The dog is simple. Whoever ( _who_ ever) he is, he isn’t as simple as that. He remembers two sets of lips and a baby in his arms, a baby he loved so fucking much, he remembers endless gore. Bones between his teeth (a fragile set then others, so so so many others) and blood on his lips and his tongue being ripped out, his organs being torn out, his flesh being peeled off. 

He remembers his friends. Someone soft and pretty and handsome and oh, fuck, he loves that guy. Coarse-soft hair and a gentle laugh and. And. More details slip through the fog, gone in a second, but they make him smile while he knows them. The other guy, tall (too damn tall) and slim and pretty too, shaggy hair, crooked smile-

He misses them. He misses everything with the fog in his mind and his body, choking him and keeping him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doc, I'm dying, I'm feeling compromised (feeling compromised), and so dehumanized (and so dehumanized). I lost my final fight to disease, I feel that this is where it ends- I need that shot to enter my vein, my Brompton cocktail blend. [Avenged Sevenfold]
> 
> some notes on this series: i genuinely didn’t expect to get such a positive reaction from this series. it was born entirely from a desire to write a self-indulgent fic and i didn’t plan anything out past “evan is a dog and vinny gets used to it”. i didn’t anticipate bringing jeff in, and while i don’t plan on bringing steph in (because i’m too unsure of her character and don’t want to fuck it up) i almost did. the fic has gone in such a fun direction- especially now that i’ve involved corenthal. i’m glad anyone reading this is actually spending time out of their day to read my fic! thank you!
> 
> this took a long fuckin while (a little over a month) because i kept just kind of... not working on it. i'd think about it, but then life would bite my balls, and i wouldn't get around to it. i scrapped like three or four chapters because they didn’t go where i wanted them to. i almost had one from corenthal’s pov, but wasn’t quite confident enough to actually do that. so, here’s habit. nasty man. this story is also scattered because i didn't have enough focus to write one long story, instead doing five little ones. poor evan.
> 
> also, rob zombie does good music. hellbilly deluxe 1 and 2 are great, house of 1000 corpses is too. educated horses is deccnt.


End file.
